Pettigrew's Mirror
by Traskold
Summary: One-shot. What if Wormtail was not actually the Secret Keeper? What if it was Sirius? And what if he managed to warn the Potters in time for them to escape?


**Pettigrew's Mirror**

* * *

"All right Padfoot," Peter said. "I'll call you back later to ask you - "

'BOOM!'

The front door of Pettigrew's little flat blew inwards, along with most of the wall. Screams echoed down the corridor of the block of flats, mingled with deranged laughter and high-pitched cackles of glee. Peter himself was thrown off his feet by the blast and into a corner, where he lay dazed and bloody. Through blurry eyes and plaster-dust, he could make out the figures of two dark robed men, tall and hooded with skeletal masks covering their eyes, forehead and cheeks. They took up positions, one on either side of the room, flanking the following man. He was no more a man than Pettigrew was a world-class Quidditch player, but it didn't matter to Peter as he lay shivering in the corner, sobbing softly and mumbling to thin air. He went bare-headed, skin stretched tightly over his skull, his slitted eyes burning like fire and an elegant, yew wand held deftly in his right hand.

It was Voldemort. With a long, bony finger, he whispered in the softest, highest voice that Peter had ever heard,

"Wormtail?"

It was not so much a question as a statement. Pettigrew didn't reply.

"You are the Secret Keeper to James Potter and his Mudblood wench?"

Pettigrew whimpered. Flames were beginning to lick the walls, filling the room with carbon dioxide.

"CRUCIO!" Voldemort screamed, wand jabbing towards the Animagus. Pettigrew let out a wretched scream of pain, thrashing about in agony.

After he had stopped writhing, Voldemort asked him again; "Do you know where the Potters are hidden?"

Pettigrew mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What," Voldemort bellowed, fire leaping at the hem of his robes but being beaten back by his wards. "Tell me! CRUCIO!"

"CRUCIO!"

His victim began to thrash around, but Voldemort stopped the spell with a jerk of his wand. He wanted the Worm to be lucid enough to tell him where the Potter's were!

"One last chance Wormtail, or I let Bellatrix on you."

His most trusted lieutenant sidled in, not even thirty years of age, but with a look in her eye that had Voldemort convinced that she should be the one to lead his armies, to stand by his side. Whilst the original Death Eaters, the Knights of Walpurgis, had followed him out of fear - out of vanity and lust to be around the next great wizard - she was a Death Eater because she was pure evil, just like himself. She hated all life and all love. She had no respect, no understanding of honour, morality, loyalty or bravery. She just wanted destruction and pain and death.

"Please master," she whispered in his ear. "I won't kill him... right away."

"Patience, Bella," he replied. "We will give the sniveling beast one last chance."

He turned to Wormtail and roared, with a voice that shook the ceiling and blew the flames out of the room, "WHERE. ARE. THE. POTTERS?"

Suddenly, Wormtail burst out wailing, "I don't know, I don't know! Why would they tell me, I'm not even part of the Order anymore. I'm not their Secret Keeper, Sirius is..." he trailed off, realising what he had said. "No, no, I didn't'... That..."

"Bella..." Voldemort said softly. "All yours. And remember to get Gibbon and Rabastan, they're looting the upper floors for Muggle valuables."

He span to go, cloak billowing like a wraith, before he turned one last time to Pettigrew and said, "Remember; you, Peter Pettigrew, were the reason that Lord Voldemort won. And I thank you... McNair, Nott; with me. Goodbye Bellatrix."

With that, he and the two guards simultaneously Disapparated, leaving Bellatrix Lestrange alone with Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius stood shocked at the scene he had just witnessed; aghast at how quickly Voldemort had found Peter.

They were deliberating on whether to visit Prongs or not at Godric's Hollow, but were having to organise it in secret as Moony was dead against it. Wormy was saying that he'd call him back to ask about something, before there was a huge explosion and Peter was thrown out of sight. But the four-way mirror that he, Moony, Wormtail and Prongs used, an elaboration on the two way

He had seen and heard everything that Voldemort had said.

Summoning the happiest memory that he could think of - the day that Mr and Mrs Potter had let him stay with them for the rest of his schooling - he fired off a large, bear shaped Patronus and ordered it to go to the Potters, and to tell them, 'Voldemort has found me. Run for it. Get abroad.'

He sat down in the high-backed armchair that he'd nicked from his father's study and waited. If he ran, he knew he'd end up in the same place as James, they were too alike. He would have to stay put, wait for Voldemort, and buy James and Lily time to get out. They could be in Paris in quarter of an hour, or Canada in twice that. That was all they needed. He didn't matter any more.

The bear dissipated into wisps of silver, then flecks, and then it was gone, leaving James and Lily alone on the sofa. They had been watching an old Muggle film of Lily's, snuggled up together under a blanket. Harry was asleep, the cat had been chucked out, and they were preparing for a romantic night in. Until the Patronus arrived.

James sprang up off the sofa, pulling the curtains shut and running over to the front door and bolting it double.

"James, what are... But... Sirius..."

She sobbed.

"Lily, get upstairs, get Harry," he shouted back to his wife. "Don't bother about anything else, I've got stuff already packed."

He flung open the door to the small stairs cupboard and grabbed two full rucksacks, filled with anything and everything possibly needed. He laid them down at the bolted doorway and then ran into his study, leaping over the desk and sliding open three empty in quick succession. In the fourth was a large bundle of Muggle cash, a Walther P5 and two fake passports. Dumbledore had refused to let them flee the country, instead advising them to hide in the very place where Voldemort would never expect. Godric's Hollow - the Potter's own hometown. However, James knew that he would have to prepare for the day when Voldemort did find them, and with Sirius and Remus' help, he had acquired a Muggle pistol and complete sets of false documents for him, Lily and Harry - or as they were going to be known, 'Mr and Mrs Alan Turpin and child.'

His family had lived in Godric's Hollow, like the many generations of Potters before them, at Lionstone Hall, which was more commonly known as Potter Manor. His father had been assassinated by Death Eaters for making a huge contribution to the Order in 1977, but his mother had continued to live at the Manor until the previous spring, when she too was killed by Death Eaters in an attack on the Hollow. Since then, James and Lily had been hiding in the small cottage in the centre of the village, only exchanging letters with Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore or Lily's parents.

He stuffed the pounds, dollars and francs into his moneybag, along with a handsome amount of Galleons, and tucked the Walther into his belt, letting his shirt-tails cover the gun from sight. Grabbing the folder of documents under one arm, he seized an empty box of Bertie Bott's in the other and said, "_Portus_."

He was ready. But with each second that Lily spent upstairs, the closer Voldemort got to Sirius, and to discovering their whereabouts.

After what seemed like far too long, Lily finally returned downstairs with a fully dressed Harry who was gurgling in his sleep. She had a Yeti-fur coat on, as well as matching gloves and scarf.

"We're fleeing Voldemort, not going to a fashion parade," James joked, trying to keep calm. "Here, do you think you can manage this 'sack, or should we only take one?"

"Yes..." Lily said, puffing as she lifted the bag onto her back. She hoisted Harry back onto her hip. "Yes, I can manage. But we can't Apparate with all this stuff?"

"No," James replied as he unbolted the front door and inserted the key into the lock. "I've got a Portkey that will take us to Penzance, we can decide where to go after that."

He waved the box of jelly beans at her, prompting the now-awake Harry to make a grab for it, thinking that there were still sweets in it.

"Berbby," Harry moaned. "Wan' Berbby-Bob."

"No Harry, sorry. No sweets," she said as they sped down the garden path and out of the wards surrounding the cottage. "I say America, my grandad went over there years ago, we can get help from him."

"OK," James said, holding out the Portkey.

Lily took hold of the box, getting a firmer grip on her only son, and nodded to James. With reflexes like a Seeker, he seized the cat by the scruff of its neck as it ran up to them, and whispered the activation spell.

"_Eu Porta_."

With a flash of blue, they were gone, leaving only the wind rustling through the leaves and the wailing of another cat that theirs had so unceremoniously abandoned under the log-pile.

They had escaped.

The wards around Sirius' terrace house alerted him to the approaching Death Eaters and, sure enough, they hammered on the door five seconds later' shouting, "Open up; Auror Corps."

He knew that that was the first mistake. They have told him they are magical. They could have just as easily used 'Police' as an excuse to get him to open the door, but their Pure-blooded arrogance and ignorance restrains them from doing so.

He had to act normally, as if he doesn't know anything. The longer he played along with Voldemort and his little Death Nibblers, the more time James and Lily had to get away.

He called out in reply, "One sec, I'm getting changed!"

"OPEN THE DOOR, OR WE'LL BLAST IT DOWN!" a Death Eater screamed, impatient at being kept from its prey. Sirius recognised the dulcet tones of Walden McNair, his year's crazy kid. But he also recognised their second mistake - an Auror or copper would never lose their cool like that, after a single denial. Something would be obviously wrong.

To irritate McNair even further, he made a show of peering out of the window, seeing three black robed figured standing conspicuously on the doorstep. They weren't even trying to hide.

"Pathetic," he mumbled to himself. "No wonder they're getting beaten by us at every turn."

He opened the front door to the skull white, furious face of Lord Voldemort and instantly jumped backwards in fright; no acting required. A whoosh of magic barrelled into Sirius, throwing him back down the narrow hallway and into the kitchen. He was stuck fast, bent double over the sink, taps digging into his spine. Voldemort strode down the hall, the electric lights flickering as he went past, leaving McNair and another Death Eater at the door. The Dark Lord meant to question him alone. Which was the third mistake.

Sirius did not doubt that Voldemort could easily access his mind, but it would be **what** he accessed which would matter. So he must clear his mind of the mirror, of the warning Patronus that he sent James and Lily. In their place he conjures up images of his old house, Grimmauld Place; its many winding passageways, the tall, narrow staircase and the innumerable Dark artifacts that his father and grandfather would collect fervently.

"Sirius Black, the outcast son of my most faithful benefactor," Voldemort began. "How ironic."

'How ironic," Sirius thought to himself, 'that your monologuing is giving them more time to get away. Mistake number four.'

"But they will not get away," Voldemort said, reading the deliberately obvious thought "For how will they know?"

"Don't ask me," quipped Sirius, still bent backwards over the sink.

"I know that you are the Potter's Secret Keeper," he hissed. "Wormtail told me - the pathetic fool. I left your cousin Bella to deal with him."

Sirius winced. He cared little for Pettigrew, especially after what had happened in Seventh Year, but would wish that fate upon nobody.

"Well, Wormtail actually managed to do something right for once," Sirius lied, speaking as much to himself as to his attacker. "Amazing, but true. Peter Pettigrew outsmarted the Dark Lord Voldemort."

"No!" Voldemort shouted. "I saw Wormtail's mind, how it was a lie, how you decided to try and double-bluff me! WHERE ARE THE POTTERS!"

He had to hold on as long as possible, to never bring the image of Godric's Hollow to mind. His father, loathsome though he was, had taught him how to shield his mind against attack, not just hiding thoughts under something else but putting up barriers as well. He knew that Voldemort would break through in a few simple seconds, so first he imagined the lake at Hogwarts, its black' glassy surface smooth and dark as obsidian. Underneath were all his thoughts mixed up and tossed around. Then around it was the largest wall he had ever seen, the Hoover Dam, but it too was completely black and featureless.

Even though he was braced for the first assault, its sheer strength took him by surprise. Whenever people told tell of the mighty power of Lord Voldemort, they weren't exaggerating. A second attack came, but this time it felt like his mind was being hammered from all sides, all parts of his brain pounding like mad. Then, as suddenly as it had started, Voldemort stopped and Sirius could see; the two Death Eaters at the door, the broken vase of flowers on the carpet, and the Dark Lord leering over him, eyes flashing between red and white as he mastered himself.

The mental punches began again, thick and fast, and this time, coming from each side. Sirius was reeling, being caught of balance, and then with a blow the size and strength of Grond, the dam ruptured and came rushing through; his invasive presence like liquid smoke. Voldemort dived into the 'lake', and split himself into a thousand tiny tendrils each burning through his mind, searching each memory and discarding it. Sirius knew that he couldn't be stopped, and finally submitted. He had done enough now.

But Voldemort was impatient, and suddenly Sirius' mind exploded with pain, a bright red light covering his vision. Voldemort had used some kind of mental Cruciatus Curse, aimed at the mind, not the body. Fifth mistake.

The red veil covering his mind transformed into a red Gryffindor banner.

The banner became person - Godric Gryffindor.

And the person became a place.

Which Voldemort recognised. And rejoiced.

Sixth mistake.

Then, with a flash of green light, everything went white.

Seventh, and final mistake.

* * *

**Authors Notes:**

**Grond is the largest battering ram ever built, 150' long and 60' high.**

**Guest 1 who forgot to leave a name - I deliberately left it unclear up to the end, to make the reader keep guessing who was the real Secret Keeper. It was actually Sirius; he just tries to bluff his way out of it.**

**Sirius does die at the end, because I wanted to disprove some of the people who say that he is not a true Gryffindor. I believe the bond between the four Marauders was so strong that they would be willing to lay down their lives for each other**

**As for, 'what happened in Seventh Year?' Well, you'll have to wait - I'm working on the sequel right now, when all will be revealed.**

**:-) **


End file.
